I believe that those who feel the dark so strongly also feel the light so beautifully, as is evidenced in your writing. It is when we are able to sit in the dark, embracing our darkness that we become able to walk through it even stronger than before. Look within and be who you need right now. You may be too young to understand this, but it has helped me (as an adult) to picture myself now, helping my younger self and “being the love I ached for”. Perhaps you can imagine yourself 20-30 years in the future, coming back in time to sit with you and hold that space for you? Sorry if this all sounds like gibberish to you. Much love!

Oh, man. How I understand. This is very raw, well-stated truth here. My heart aches in reading it. When the ones who are supposed to love you treat you that way, it makes life hard to live. But, know that there are many of us out here who care about you.

Devereaux, to get this far despite those either against you or not supporting you for who you are shows your great strength. Regardless what some others say, you have much to offer this world by being yourself. The power of the pen is far more powerful than most think. We can get persons to listen this way.

I grew up not saying more than 100 words through my mid twenties, because of anxiety, fear, and frustration. Everyone seemed to be against me. My parents were very critical and against me. I had no outside friends. Students bullied me. Eventually I realized I could not give up or act out despite my severe pain as they would win. I would be seen as the problem, not them.

My hatred towards them though was bigger than my pain. Perhaps I hated myself too, but they could not squeeze all of that out of me, as I dreamed of a better life. Regardless if I actually believed I would get that one day, it bought me time. And time gave me new chances to meet nicer persons. This gave me time to start thinking clearer, and to find ways to believe in myself. Then, these others’ thoughts about me did not matter as much.

That was a tough read and I’m sorry you feel this way. It was an awful thing for your family to say but perhaps they are just worried for you and have not articulated it well. People say stupid things. Not much fun, pah! You are not a clown. You are someone whose writing touches many people and you have so much to offer. Many people hate clowns anyway.

I know life can be rough from my Aspie son. But DO NOT give up. Suicide is NEVER the answer. My husband committed suicide and all it does is leave many victims in its wake and it will end the beauty of who you are. You ARE beautiful and you have a beautiful gift. Build on that and grasp hold of who you are, not what others say.

It’s hard. How do you learn not to need people? It’s not by shutting people out or encasing yourself in a hard shell of who gives a shit. It’s about finding a goal and moving forward. Be you. Stick with that. Make goals. Move forward–yes, alone, if that’s where you are for now. Just for now. You’ll see.

You have an amazing talent for writing and self expression. I can relate to coming from parents who are hurtful and neglectful and it is a terrible feeling and I also have a difficult time making friends. I have found that I do better with a few good friends, rather than a lot of so-so ones and consider them to be part of my chosen family. The words, “It’s rotting my mind, stealing my time” are right on. ❤

The entire post is great and those few words speak volumes of truth! I had to put up some clear boundaries with my family and a few friends because it was rotting my mind and stealing my time. I also really like the last part too…maybe it’s you that really wants to get away, reminding yourself of how detrimental it is to stay in hurtful relationships. The level of difficulty when it involves our parents is really hard ❤

Being talked about behind your back can be hurtful when you realize that some friends are being two-faced. Having it come from a parent (a child only a mother could love) is the ultimate in having the ground slip from under you.
Well said. The emotion is visceral. Another helpful glimpse into the hurtful side of being an aspie. (It’s one side, though not to minimize the impact.) It’s one side – we all have many sides – we need to build on the aspects of who we are that are promising.

This is some tragic shit. But some good poetry. I consider my mum the person I’ve been closest to during my life, the person I love the most. Yet she cannot have a conversation with me about my OCD. I tried for the longest time. I am not angry with her. If the roles were reversed, I’d be the same way. She is a product of the world she grew up in. Where people didn’t discuss such things and competition and conformity are important. Mental illness is like a colour you don’t wear or a number you never use. They fear it and so avoid it, or repackage it as something else. It’s no their fault per se. It’s just the way the world has conditioned them. Maybe we can get through to them. If not, we have to connect with other people who do get it. And that can be hard too, especially oline where interactions are shallow and unreliable. Speaking of which, sorry I’ve not been commenting much lately. Not the best time in my life right now.